Page 11 of Endless Anger
I don’t say anything. I’m still not sure myself.
His fourteen-year-old son just murdered someone. That much seems obvious.
“What if we went to that little diner down the street for lunch—oh myGod!” Mom’s voice enters the clearing, and I peek past Dad to see her standing at the edge, eyes wide and mouth agape. “What the fuck did you do, Kallum?”
Dad exhales, turning with me still in his grip, and makes me face her. She gasps louder this time, horror etching into her delicate features. I wince, hating that I’m the cause.
“What the fuck did you let him do?”
“Elena.”
She rushes over, yanking me into an embrace. Her hands pat me down, feeling for fractures and abrasions, and I close my eyes for a moment. When she pulls away, she smooths her thumbs over my cheeks, giving me a little shake.
“Are you okay, baby?”
“He’s fine.”
“I wasn’t asking you,” she snaps, glaring at Dad. He’s now standing over the corpse, rubbing his chin. “Who the hell is that?”
“No clue. I was just with you, looking for our son, you know.”
She drops her head to my shoulder, sighing. “I know, I know. I just…” Clutching me tighter, she makes a weird sound and then releases me to walk over to him. “What do you think?”
He says something too low for me to hear. Not that I’m really paying much attention as my vision swims in and out of focus.
This wasn’t like my usual fights. I don’t feel any excitement—only thick, unending dread.
“…actually fucking dangerous. I’m not sure what they want with us, but maybe we should talk to Q about this place.”
“We can, but you know she won’t want to leave without a good reason. She thinks this is her destiny, and she’s convinced Lucy of it too.”
“So let’sgiveher a reason. Destiny or not, our son was just randomly attacked.”
“Was it random though?”
They get quiet, and I wonder if they know whatIknow. If they’ve seen the encyclopedia too somehow.
Mom exhales long and slow. “I don’t want this following Asher in the meantime.”
“Well, I’m afraid there’s not much we can do to lessen the emotional impact?—”
“No, I mean.” Mom waves her hands between the four of us. “On paper. Can’t you…fix it?”
For a long time, he doesn’t say anything, but his gaze eventually slides to mine. His chest puffs up with a deep inhale, deflates slowly, and then he nods at Mom. “Be sure what you’re asking me to do is really what you want, little one. There’s no coming back from this.”
She bites her lip, then holds an arm out, beckoning me. “I know what I’m asking, Kallum. For you to protect our child. You promised you would no matter what.”
“You don’t normally let me go to such extremes.”
“Not if it means compromising our child’s trust, no.” She points at his chest. “That is not the case here.”
I don’t know what the hell is going on anymore. They seem to be more aware of things that I’m not in any shape to comprehend, but when Mom tells me to come over, my feet carry me to her.
“I’m going to go find your sisters and take them back to main campus,” she says, kissing my forehead before removing the scrap of fabric from my neck. Her jaw clenches when she notices the gash there, and she tucks the piece into my fist, curling my fingers inward. “You two come find us when you’re finished.”
It’s more than a little unsettling how calm she seems about all this, but I don’t get the chance to comment, because she’s gone within minutes. Dad looks at the trees she slipped through, and I wonder if he’s about to lecture me again or ask for more details I’m not ready to give.
Instead of doing either, he reaches into his pants pocket and fishes out a matchbook. Holding it up with two fingers, he raises a dark brow at me, something easy and foreboding passing between us.
